


Enthusiastic

by inkheart9459



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 13:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3069173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkheart9459/pseuds/inkheart9459
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a weekend of rather strenuous love making Miranda has her fair share of bruises, all hidden of course save one, an imprint of the ring that Andrea wears every day. Now Miranda has to hide the evidence and keep their relationship even further under wraps, but things keeps getting in the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enthusiastic

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr prompt from anon: "Oh goody! I was looking through randommirandyfics and saw a prompt sent in by CrazyBeCat that I would love to see written. Either Miranda or Andy acquires some minor injury during sex that isn't easy to hide. They have to come up with a cover story so that they aren't outed as a couple. If you are interested, I'd love to see you write it!" Weird prompt-ception here, but hey, works. Hope y'all enjoy.

Miranda had always loved that Andrea was so very…enthusiastic during sex. She was certainly at least ten times better than any previous partner that Miranda had, and definitely easier on the eyes. But that same enthusiasm was coming back to bite them as Miranda walked into Runway on Monday after a weekend of very adventurous love making. Miranda pulled down the sleeves of her blouse again and tried not to stare at her wrist. Her wrist was a sickly shade of yellow-green with a dark purple outline of the ring Andrea wore every single day. Miranda hadn’t even felt the injury at the time she was far too distracted with other, far more pleasurable things at the time.

When they had woken on Sunday morning, however, Miranda had looked down and saw the bruise and glared over at her young lover accusingly. Andrea had apologized profusely at hurting her. Miranda had waved her off. The bruise didn’t even hurt, it was just an inconvenience. A very dangerous inconvenience. No one at Runway could know they were together, of course. Her reputation could take the hit, but she did not want it to affect Andrea and invalidate any reference she wrote the girl when she wanted to move on.

They had immediately made up a cover story, something rather vapid about Andrea having to catch her Friday as they both had left the building when her heel had broken. It was seemingly believable enough, but if anyone looked closer it was going to collapse quickly enough. Who, after all, grabbed someone’s wrist to keep them upright? And Andrea never let a hair out of place while she was at Runway, she would have of course noticed her ring being completely turned around and would have had it fixed if the accident was supposed to have happened right after work. But Miranda hoped desperately that people for once didn’t disappoint her expectations of stupidity.

She strutted into the Elias-Clarke building, smirking inwardly as people scattered around her. Oh, how she loved that reaction. She walked onto an elevator and pressed the button for the seventeenth floor as two people scurried off with apologies. She pulled her sunglasses off her face before the doors to Runway opened and placed them in her bag. Oh, it was going to be a long few days while the bruises faded. No one would think it was entirely odd that she was wearing long sleeves in July, there were summer blouses of course, but usually she did not favor them. She had worked hard for her shapely arms and damned if she wasn’t going to show them off when it was a hundred degrees. But Miranda Priestly had its perks in that no one would ask, but everyone would wonder. And wondering was dangerous as well.

Emily was waiting for her by the elevator like always. She started firing off a rapid fire list of things to be done before she even fully stepped off the elevator. Emily and Nigel were really the only ones in danger of noticing something was truly amiss. They were the ones with the most contact with her and Andrea. She would keep them both busy enough for the next few days that they wouldn’t have time to wonder why Miranda was dressing differently than normal. Being Dragon Lady had the perks of no one thinking such demands were out of the ordinary.

Yes, she would work this to her advantage as she had every other thing in her life. After all, she did not get where she was today by not manipulating every single advantage she had to her favor.

She walked towards her office with that in mind and almost stopped dead when she saw Andrea. Her hair was up in a fashionably styled version of a pony tail and a dark, glaring hickey stood out just behind her ear, where no doubt the girl had not been able to see it. Every curse she knew in English, Italian, Yiddish, and French flowed through her mind. There was no way in hell that someone had not noticed that.

Miranda took a deep breath and threw her purse with her normal flare on Emily’s desk and glided into her office. She walked to her desk and sat down, crossing her legs regally and staring out into the outer office. There were two recourses here. She could ignore that Andrea had a hickey that she had most assuredly given her or she could call the girl in here and fix it like it had never happened.

She weighed her options. What would seem like more out of character choice? As it stood now she had absolutely no connection with that hickey. Everyone would assume that Andrea had gotten it from some other person, a man most likely. Miranda’s nose twitched at the inherent heterosexual bias in that assumption, but right now it was making her life a little easier, for perhaps the only time in her life. But she knew her reputation, her staff would see the hickey and expect her to remark on it in some snarky way, and she could not bring herself to do that.

“Andrea,” she called quietly.

Andrea was there in a second notepad at the ready. Miranda surveyed her intently, watching the blush creep up the girl’s neck and onto her cheeks.

“Bring me your purse Andrea.”

The girl turned around to comply with Miranda’s instructions quick as a flash. Miranda dug around in her own drawer. It was going to take a little more than concealer for just a dark mark and she had just the thing. Thank god that every make up brand known to man sent her free samples.

Andrea walked back into her office just as Miranda pulled the two tubes that she wanted out of her desk and set them on top. Andrea set her purse in front of Miranda with a questioning look. Miranda said nothing. The girl was more than used to her strange requests by now.

She reached forward and dug around, quickly finding Andrea’s makeup bag and pulling out her concealer and foundation. Miranda stood up and gestured for Andrea to take her place. Andrea was even more confused, but followed her direction without question.

Miranda took out the tube of yellow skin tone corrector and set to work applying it the inside of the hickey. Andrea inhaled sharply at the feel of Miranda’s fingers on her.

“It seems I may have been a bit too…enthusiastic this weekend. There’s a rather large hickey right behind your ear.” Miranda’s voice was barely audible, knowing that Emily was probably listening to everything that went on in the office.

“Oh god, I didn’t see it. I would have covered it up if I had known.” Andrea replied in the same low tones, looking at Miranda with those large brown eyes, pleading for her to understand.

Miranda swallowed hard. Those eyes got her every single time. “I know, it’s situated right where you wouldn’t see it.” Miranda capped the yellow corrector and moved on to the green, satisfied with her work. She covered the rest of the hickey with the green corrector and stepped back. Better.

She reached for Andrea’s concealer just as Nigel walked in and she cursed in every language she knew yet again. She continued working as if nothing was amiss. The first tip off about any situation was acting guilty.

Andrea, however, had not learned that. She stiffened under Miranda’s light fingers and Miranda sighed internally. Oh dear.

“Nigel,” she said in her normal voice. “What brings you here?”

She felt his eyes on them, surveying the scene and trying to make sense of it. Miranda kept on working, covering Andrea’s hickey. The concealer had almost taken everything away and she was pleased. A layer of foundation and that she be all that was required. No one would even know it was there.

She placed down the concealer and reached for the foundation.

“I just have the proofs from the photo shoot in Haiti for you.” He set the folder on her desk right beside Andrea’s purse.

“Oh good.” She really did need those for work on the next issue. At least something today was going right. “Anything else, Nigel?”

“No, nothing, I should have the final mock-up of the vineyard shoot for this issue to you after lunch, but that’s it for now.”

Miranda nodded. “That’s all.”

He lingered for a few more moments, only saved from getting his head bitten off by the fact that he was her oldest and dearest friend. He left the room just as she snapped the lid back on Andrea’s foundation.

“Done, as long as you don’t ruin it by sweating you something else unseemly you should be fine for the rest of the day.” She threw everything she had used into Andrea’s bag and zipped it up. “And I know that you’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

“Of course, Miranda.”

Miranda nodded and sighed. “That’s all.”

Only when Andrea had left the room did she realize that her sleeves had ridden up while she was covering Andrea’s hickey to reveal the bruise on her wrist, imprint of Andrea’s ring clear for all to see. She had to hold in a scream.

Instead, she sat down to rip into the proofs of the Haiti shoot. She would make someone else scream later, as they read her comments. That thought made her feel just slightly better, but not by much.

 

The day passed in a whirl of work as normal, but Miranda swore she felt more eyes on her than normal. It was just paranoia she knew, but that did not settle her nerves. She stood after lunch and strode from her office. She had a showing at a new designer’s house to attend. IT would get her out of this god forsaken office for a few hours at least.

She strode into the outer office and towered over Andrea’s desk. The girl finished whatever she was typing quickly, shot up, grabbing Miranda’s purse from the closet it was kept in, and handed it to Miranda, grabbing her own in the process.

“I called Alexander to let him know that you want the showing of his new line next week. Also, this new designer has been confirmed with of course. Three more times than necessary.” Andrea walked around her desk and joined Miranda at her side, both of them moving from the room in synch. Until Andrea’s legs just suddenly gave out from underneath her.

Miranda lunged forward and caught the girl easily, sighing when it was clear that no harm had come to the girl. She helped Andrea right herself, hands still on the younger woman’s upper arms. Andrea shot her a smile and made no move out of her grip. Miranda found herself caught in that smile, corners of her mouth twitching up in response.

“Sorry, legs are just being a little wonky today,” Andrea broke the moment with her words and Miranda was extremely thankful.

Miranda stepped back, letting her hands fall from to her sides.

“Looks like you finally got laid after that idiot of a cook, Sachs,” Emily muttered from her desk, rolling her eyes. “About bloody time.”

Miranda felt herself pale just as much as Andrea had. Emily glanced up at both of them and scowled. Her first assistant rolled her eyes and went right back to work.

“I work with bloody prudes.”

Miranda sniffed. “I highly doubt that, Emily.” Her voice was cold enough that Emily shrunk down at her desk and typed just a bit faster.

She strode from the room. She needed to get out of this building before anything else happened. She felt Andrea following behind her, ever loyally.

Minutes later they both slipped into the Benz and shot off to the showing. The pieces weren’t bad, for a new designer they were quite good. If given time and guidance the girl could become a great asset to the fashion field. Miranda had let the girl know as much in her own signature way, and she hadn’t seen anyone else happier to hear the words mostly acceptable but your skills still need work.

Miranda sighed as they were once more in the Benz. Returning to Runway was the last thing she wanted to do. Andrea was logging in the notes she had taken at the showing diligently when the girl’s Blackberry buzzed. Andrea picked it up and read the text message and paled.

Miranda’s hand came up to massage her temples. “Dear god, what now?”

“Nigel just asked me what was going on between the two of us. Miranda, what in the world do I tell him?”

“Tell him nothing, of course.” Miranda shook her head. “What else?”

Andrea sucked her plump lower lip into her mouth. “Miranda, um, do you think that maybe I should move on? I know this is really the first time that we’ve had any problems, but, um, if we keep this up there will be other days. I have been at Runway over a year. I have earned my recommendation. No one would think it was weird if I left now.”

Miranda looked over at the girl. She considered her options for a few seconds. She liked having Andrea around all day every day, but the girl was right, this sort of arrangement couldn’t last.

“Do you have any feelers out for a job you would like?”

Andrea shook her head. “But I can start looking.”

“Do. And then I can leave hickeys all over you without having to worry. I do so like claiming what is mine.” Miranda smirked as the car pulled up outside of Elias-Clarke. She exited the car, leaving a sputtering Andrea behind.


End file.
